Fade to Black
by Crossroad Avarice
Summary: Alyss takes a moment to reflect on who she was, and who she is. OC-centric; teaser


**Rila:** Something quick — a teaser of sorts for a one-shot that has yet to be completed. Gonna be at least over 4k, I hope. Anyway, enjoy! Unbeta-ed. Again, this is a teaser, so thus...well, it might seem crappy, but it'll make sense when I finish up the actual one-shot.

Disclaimer: _I do not own the song __Fade to Black__ by Metallica. I own Spark and Alyss, however._

Word Count: 761

* * *

"I'll just be a minute."

Alyss could feel the weight of Spark's gaze on her as she stood and turned, though she didn't turn back around. She had made it clear that he would have to regain her trust from the ground up, and she wasn't going to go back on her word. Stepping into the diner's refresher, Alyss shut the door behind her and sighed. Her hair felt grimy beneath the nondescript cap that she wore, and she pulled it off.

"I need a shower," she mumbled to herself, raking a hand through shortened black hair. It hadn't been the most professional of hair-cuts, but it'd been the best they could do given what they'd had on hand. Sweeping it back under the cap, Alyss approached the sink. A mirror was hung just inches above it, grimy and water stained. Scrubbing the cuff of her sleeve across it, the young woman leaned forward to inspect her reflection.

She didn't look like herself.

But then again, had she ever really looked at herself before? Sure, there'd been the cursory glance to make sure that she looked alright — but there'd been no careful scrutiny, no observations down to the last hair on her head. But despite it all, Alyss knew one thing was painfully clear — she was not a Jedi anymore. Her lightsaber had not touched her hands in months, carefully wrapped in her cloak and packed down at the bottom of Spark's pack.

_"Nothing that can be recognized," _he'd told her, expression grim. _"That means your lightsaber, too."_

He too had changed, and Alyss wasn't sure if she really knew who he was anymore. Gone was the confident man that she'd once known, and in his place was a man who would do whatever necessary to make sure they survived. How many times had he lied as he pushed credits across the counter? How many times had he told her what to do if they were caught? How many times had he —

_More than I can count,_ she thought, and resumed her inspection. No matter how many hours of moderately undisturbed sleep she got, she always appeared tired. Strands of hair that escaped her cap framed her face, making the thin scratches and bruises that marred her face stand out all the more. Alyss exhaled and gripped the edges of the sink, attempting a smile.

Cracked lips stretched, but the end result was a pained grimace. There wasn't much to smile about these days, and Alyss wondered if she'd forgotten how to smile at all.

"Pathetic," she whispered. "Look at you. You think anyone but yourself feels sorry for you? They've got their own problems to worry about. You're just another face in the crowd." A face in the crowd that, were it to be discovered what she was, would be traded in for a reward. There was no sense of decency these days — and if there was, it was stretched into corners that Alyss couldn't reach. "You're so pathetic. Master wouldn't have ever let you get like this." She exhaled and pushed back the feeling of ice that crept into her stomach at the mention of her former Master.

_Enough._ _Enough moping around, enough feeling sorry for myself. _Her fingers curled around the edges of the sink, and she glared at her reflection. _No more standing around._ She pushed away and strode out of the refresher, approaching where Spark still sat. He turned, and she jerked her chin towards the door. "Let's go. We're wasting daylight."

He stared, and she couldn't blame him. For months she'd simply followed his lead, unable to muster up enough strength to protest or offer any sort of help. Spark stood. "Welcome back," he murmured as he brushed past her, and she could hear the relief in his voice. Alyss's lips twitched. She still didn't feel quite like herself, and maybe she never would. But for now, it was good enough.


End file.
